Tag Archives: Gerald Cannon

The League jet still dripped water even though they’d stepped out of it two hours ago. It stood inside a huge room made of gray concrete. A car that resembled a black 1965 Corvette had been parked next to two motorcycles, one normal, and the other red, white, and blue.

Metal shelving ran across the walls, holding tools and spare parts.

Joe stood in the hangar, still wearing the Rocket suit. He’d expected to be done by now, but he had to admit that he probably shouldn’t have. They’d packed the League jet practically to the top of the cargo bay.

It was like moving, but only if your house had been stocked with alien artifacts created for the purpose of destroying alien civilizations and bending what was left to your will.

A man in bulky, gray armor exited the jet’s cargo bay. Even if Joe hadn’t known his name, the horn extending from the mask hinted at his codename.

Joe could have called him “Rhino,” but opted with, “Hey Larry, is that what I think it is?”

Kayla could imagine Cannon shaking his head as he replied. “Between the distance and my armor, the pacemaker should be fine.”

“No,” Chris said, “this doesn’t sound like a good idea. I can take it in, and get out. I don’t have any missiles left and low on power, so I’m not going to get into fights. I’ll run.”

C talked over everyone. “Good so far, but I think we’re going to need everybody we’ve got left. I’d say send in the ship, both Man-machines, get their attention, and place the device. It doesn’t matter which of you does it. Get everyone in the jet, and then set the device off. The jet will survive that, right?”

She looked down at the gun. It had two grips. The trigger and guard were on the back one. the front grip had a line of buttons on the side. Above them, it said, “Extra,” followed by “Beans,” “Cheese,” “Chunky Salsa,” “Green Sauce,” “Red Sauce,” and “Shell.”

Thinking back to English composition class from last semester, she wondered what Chekov would do if he saw a burrito gun hanging on the wall in Act 1 of a play.

“Wait a second,” Haley said, “I’ve got a better idea. Gravity Star, ramp up the gravity around you so that none of them can move, and then we’ll all shoot them.”

Sydney’s voice came over the comm. “And kill them?”

“That’s what they’ll do to you,” Chris’ grandfather sputtered over the connection.

Kayla checked the screen. He’d made it out of the complex, and was walking through the woods. Lucky him, she thought.

The screens showed the breach in one of the doors that blocked off the League’s own tunnels from the abandoned sewer lines that the League used to exit the complex. From what she was seeing, they’d found the exit in the concrete wall next to the beach where Nick sometimes exited the complex.

She couldn’t see where they were in the complex yet. The cameras weren’t showing them.

On the screen, the League jet exited the water, covered in panes of darkness, aiming toward the forest. The white beam, painfully bright even on the screen, aimed off to the side of where HQ’s scanner had identified it as an anomaly.

Then the man appeared. Wearing a black helmet with a transparent faceplate, the alien commander had thick features, somewhere between handsome and Neanderthal. Kayla wouldn’t have looked twice at him on the street.

Then he opened his mouth. His teeth were like a wolf’s—all points, ready to rip and tear.

She thought about how much it would suck to be his dentist, choking down a giggle while reprimanding herself in her head. What was she, ten?

The newscaster’s voice said, “The alien ship hovering over New York City broadcast this message moments ago.”

In a scratchy voice with an unidentifiable accent, the commander said, “You will give us the alien devices. They are not yours, and will only cause you trouble. Give them to us, and we will tell no one. Keep them from us, and we will burn your cities to the ground.”

His nostrils flared and he sniffed in a movement that reminded Kayla of Travis and Haley.